


ghost of a king

by houseofhimbos



Series: the arcanajuice au [1]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Background Portia/Nadia, But Probably Not As Much As You'd Think, Excessive Flirting On Lucio's End, F/F, Gen, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Ghost Lucio (The Arcana), Julian And Portia Are Ghosts For Plot Reasons, Male Pronouns for Asra (The Arcana), Nonbinary Asra (The Arcana), Other, You Will Get To Smooch This Ghost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27057307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofhimbos/pseuds/houseofhimbos
Summary: An amnesiac in the 21st century, tired of living in a place too expensive (and of their absentee, tax-evading and rent-avoiding roommate) decides to move into a smaller, more manageable place. Said place is occupied by the recently deceased. At least they got a free cat out of it?Born from my feral mind and inspired by a post on tumblr, this is the crossover that nobody asked for. Please enjoy!
Relationships: Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/You
Series: the arcanajuice au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974748
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	ghost of a king

The apartment that you had recently started renting was absolutely, irrevocably haunted. In the corner, your new cat, Pepi, pawed at seemingly nothing. You knew it was probably one of the Devoraks - Portia being the most likely candidate. (You’d made the executive decision not to look too closely at the things Pepi was doing early on into your residency.) As you pinched the bridge of your nose, you heard glass shatter in the kitchen. “Julian,” you groaned, dragging your hands across your face as you went to retrieve your broom, “ _please_ stop breaking my expensive glasses. I need those for when guests come over.” 

At least you knew it was Portia who was playing with her old cat. Portia was a _good_ ghost. She never broke the wine glasses.

Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

“So…” A head of curly white hair popped out from the kitchen - Asra, your ‘roommate’. Loose clothes rustled softly as he walked towards you, the bright colors a stark contrast to his cool, tawny skin. Offering you freshly baked cookies on a plate, glittering violet eyes filled with playful mischief, Asra said, “I found you a place.” You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him from where you were seated. Suspicious.

“Oh, you did, did you now?” Asra had been avoiding paying rent for _months_ , having just returned from Muriel’s little retreat in the forest. He deserved a little bit of a cold shoulder at this point. You aggressively took a cookie from the proffered plate and shoved it in your mouth, grumbling as you took a too-large bite. (They were _really_ good cookies, in your defense.) It was delicious, obviously, and your favorite. At least, you thought they were your favorite. Asra had said so. 

You’d spent three years with him, recovering from amnesia. Your memories had never returned, sure, but you’d found new purpose in your life thanks to him. His only fatal flaw (in their words) was his ‘inability to stay in one place for very long’. Sounded like a bullshit reason to skip on rent then, and was certainly a bullshit reason now.

“I did. It’s not that far from here, actually. And rent is cheap,” he singsonged, clearly trying to get on your good side. “Plus, it comes with a free cat.” You raised your eyebrows in mild confusion. Pleasant confusion, certainly, but confusion nonetheless.

“... Show me a picture of the cat.” He whipped out his phone with a feral glee that you’d come to associate with him landing a client off of Etsy. “Isn’t she cute?” Asra said with a longing sigh, “Her name is Pepi, and I adore her. It’s a real shame that I don’t need a new place… with cheaper rent… and nice furniture…” Shoving Asra’s phone out of the way, you gave him a pointed stare. You didn’t need his heckling to be convinced to move out of the too-expensive unit you’d been stuck with for far too long. “Alright,” you said with a sigh, “you win. What’s the location?” Asra had pumped his fists in victory, and you’d been swept along to meet the landlord of the new home you were about to move into.

“You’re the potential renter, hm? My name is Nadia, but you may call me Miss Satrinava.” Nadia - ah, no, Miss Satrinava - had been a gorgeous, tall woman with a countenance that reminded you of royalty. Dressed in a purple suit, towering heels and elegant, minimalist gold jewelry that stood out against her bronze features, she was more akin to a countess than an apartment manager. Stammering, you’d somehow managed to convey that yes, you were here for the apartment that came with a cat?

“Ah, yes. Unit… 08, if I’m not mistaken. Pepi refused to leave the vicinity, and I’ve been taking care of her ever since the previous tenants died, but -” “Wait, what?” Asra hadn’t told you that the previous tenants were deceased, no, all you had heard about was Pepi and how precious she was. (Oh, and the cost. Come to think of it, it hadn’t really matched with the prices of the other units when you’d quickly scoped the place out on the ride here…)

“Asra didn’t inform you?” Miss Satrinava pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, shaking her head softly. The pit in your stomach grew three sizes, as if you’d personally disappointed Miss Satrinava rather than your absentee roommate. You began to stutter out an apology, but she cut you off almost immediately. “It’s quite alright. I’d have expected Asra to have a little more tact than to shove you into this situation without being informed, but knowing him… he probably just told you about Pepi and left it at that, did they not?” 

You nodded sheepishly, kicking yourself inside. “Long story made short for the sake of time, the unit that you’re interested in used to be occupied by the Devorak siblings. They died a few months ago in a fatal car accident, end of story. No lethal accidents or ghost hauntings in my complex,” and a small, mischievous grin wormed its way onto her face at that, “but people have been rather tentative about living there when they hear the previous owners died, whether in the apartment or not.”

“I’ll take it.” Miss Satrinava paused, and gave you a warm smile. (All was right in the world, your crops were flourishing and your skin was cleared.) “Excellent,” she said, leading you down the hall and into her office, “I’ll just need you to sign a few papers, then, and we can go over the general expectations we hold for one another here at Satrinava Apartments…”

Portia Devorak sighed from behind the door of unit 8. Giving Pepi a spectral pat, she shouted, “Ilyaaaaa! We’re getting a roommate!” 


End file.
